Satyr Day Nights Fever

My name is Peter. I have got a confession to make. I am the world greatest lover.

I am also a satyr. And no, I am not gay.

I was born in New York. Worked for the city. I was on a clean-up crew after the towers fell and found this old brass bottle. It was twisted up good but some how it had not been squashed flat like everything else I had seen. It was not bigger than my hand so I stuffed it in my pocket with no one the wiser.

I collect odd things and when I got home I thought I clean it up. Yeah you can guess what happened next.

I got a knock out looking gal wanting to know what my wish is. I only get one.

Now I had seen the animated movie Aladdin. I was pretty sure I could not wish for events on 9/11 to not happen. Or at least bring people back from the dead.

Or make the girl next door fall in love with me. Or kill that idiot who plays his music too loud above me.

Unfortunately even those noble sediments did not even pop into my head.

No, I got stupid. Now I had just enough foresight to not wish for winning the lottery. I knew how I could get screwed on that one. I thought that far ahead. Or so I thought.

I wanted to be the world’s greatest lover. I was never the popular kid in school. I would find some rich girl I could wrap around my finger and I would be set. But until that happened I would be a player. The man.

The thing about a verbal contract. You cannot read the fine print.

So I made the wish and that was that.

Nothing happened.

I hit the club and I seemed confident. Super charged. Then we went to my place and it happened. Just as we started going to first base I started to change. Goat legs. Horns. The whole package. I was great. I was making her pant like a dog in heat.

She did not even question me changing. I got the home base many times that night.

In the morning I was back to normal and she left with some cash on the nightstand. Okay. I could get used to this.

I had to be careful. I could not ask for money up front. That is solicitation. If they wanted to leave a few bucks without me asking. I was cool with that.

However that was when the police show up a week later asking about the same girl. She went missing. I told them everything. Except the part of me changing into a half goat. I barely remembered her name.

I hit the scene the next day. And soon another woman was in the passionate embrace of my half goat self. The things I could do where beyond my expectations. A woman. Any woman was putty in my hands.

Again without asking. She left cash on the nightstand and then ten days later. Cops are at my door. This one vanished too.

I was worried. Had these woman committed suicide and their bodies not found. Was I that good? Or was I thinking I was that good that these two complete strangers to me thought that I was the ultimate hook up and killed themselves knowing they could never feel that way again.

Or was this my ego talking.

I laid low for about two week when a full moon got me the itch. I went out again and again I found some knock out babe who could not wait to jump my bones. And again I transformed in the heat of passion and again money on the nightstand. And again about a week later cops are knocking on my door.

Now they knew something was going on and I was sure something was too. But every time I had a rock solid alibi.

It was after the fourth time I was set up by the cops. She did not do a roll in the hay with me and that may have saved her life. But I could tell she was sweating. She wanted it bad. I did not ask for money and she left my place early.

Later they figured out that the missing women was someone trying to use me as a patsy. Or that was the running theory. Like that Hitchcock movie. Strangers on a Train.

So now I knew I was under surveillance. I tried to stave off the itch and I was sure there might be a hidden camera in my place.

But it was the full moon again and I had to go out. I hooked up with co-ed and went to a motel room. She rocks the place. In the morning. Cash on the nightstand. And a week later. She goes missing. They watched her vanish. Well not vanish but she just disappeared from her dorm room overnight.

I am a bit thick headed. But I had to know. So I take a drive out of state. I am pretty sure I am not followed. I rubbed the brass bottle.

Genie is grinning at me from ear to ear.

It seems I am an avatar. She gets power from souls. I set women up to be her nymphs. They are soulless servants. They tend her fields and worship the very ground she walks on. That belief in her gives her power. That and taking their souls. That power allows her to make another avatar.

It seems she has the contact written on the bottle but it is so small you need microscope to read it. Essentially by summoning the genie you want to become the world greatest lover. The weak willed. Such as me. Get suckered in. A strong willed man who wishes for something else gets screwed. The genie turns out to be a dud and that is that. Also strong willed women. Such as that cop. Can resist my charms.

I have to go out and find a woman once a month. I am compelled to do so. A full moon is the tip off. Once a woman accepts my blessing. Read sperm or just the act of intercourse. She is doomed. She is compelled to give me tribute. Read cash. Then go on her merry way.

But my blessing is like a virus. It takes about a week to build up the necessary magic juice within the female body. It only works on females. The reproductive organs I think are the key.

So after a week. She has spasm like an orgasm and falls through a crack in the universe and they find their way to her world.

Once she gets enough souls. She makes another bottle and the whole thing starts all over again.

I am not a strong willed man. I tried to stop. But I can't. I have chained myself up in the middle of nowhere but somehow I get free and find a woman. Any woman. And they go missing. I can only try to keep it under control.

I move around a lot now. I make sure they are not married or a cop. I am like a werewolf/vampire. Genie knows she has me and I can’t see a way out.

I never age. I am in perfect health. It’s been over ten years. I do not know how many more are there like me.

But if you see a twisted up brass bottle. Toss it away or walk away.

End

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18.07.14